


A Wind in the Shadow

by flowerbedofsouls



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: M/M, Meeting the Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 13:55:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8893249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerbedofsouls/pseuds/flowerbedofsouls
Summary: On Saturday the 17th December, Isak meets Even's parents.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [A Wind in the Shadow](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8970346) by [TGSantiaga](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TGSantiaga/pseuds/TGSantiaga)



> Translation into Russian is also available on this [external link](https://ficbook.net/readfic/5053848). Thank you so much, [TGSantiaga](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TGSantiaga/pseuds/TGSantiaga).
> 
> I know Isak and Even's been at Even's place, but I imagine Isak didn't see all the rooms and that maybe his parents don't know of it. So I wrote this initially as a piece where Isak hadn't been to the house and Even lived in his own flat or something, but then that felt weird, so I changed it.
> 
> I haven't written proper dialogue in a while. And yet again the spacing looks weird.

_”Give me shelter, or show me heart,_  
_Come on love, come on love;_  
_Watch me fall apart, watch me fall apart”_

—Ben Howard with Only love

 

*

 

“Are you nervous?”

 

“No, I’m not _nervous_.”

 

“You’re nervous.”

 

“I’m not! Honestly,” Isak insists, rolling his eyes.

 

Even grins. “You sure about that?” he asks, glancing down at Isak’s right foot.

 

Isak follows his eyes and sees his own foot tapping impatiently onto the floor. He stops and refuses to look into his eyes.

 

“I’m very sure,” he says decidedly. “It’s not anything to be nervous about. I’m just meeting your parents, right?”

 

“Exactly,” Even says, grabbing his hand. “Nothing to be nervous about. You do know which fork to use to the appetizer, yeah?”

 

“What?” Isak turns his head in a movement so rapid he nearly got wryneck. His free hand flies up to massage the sore spot. “What do you mean?”

 

“The appetizer,” Even repeats patiently. “You’re telling me you don’t know which fork to use?”

 

“There’s a special fork for that?” Isak asks, frowning. “What the hell?”

 

Even grins and his head falls back as he’s laughing. “I’m just messing with you. Well, there _is_ a special fork, I’m sure, but you don’t have to worry about that. We’re making tacos so you’ll be fine.”

 

“Asshole,” Isak says, but there’s no venom in his voice. Instead, he smiles brightly at his boyfriend.

 

It’s nice to see Even joking again. It’s nice to see him laughing and present. The dark cloud that has been hovering over him seems to have lifted, and now there’s only the bright boy Isak is so happy to call him his boyfriend.

 

“You wound me,” Even says and puts his free hand over his heart.

 

“I’m sure,” Isak chuckles.

 

He lets his head rest against Even’s shoulder. His eyes fall down to their hands.

 

This is nice.

 

This is what he wants.

 

He wants to share his happiness and pain with Even, and he wants Even to do the same for him. He wants the whole shebang with laughter and joy, fighting and anger and the making up. And he wants the whole meeting the parents, the travelling, the complaining after a rough school day and the gentle cuddling.

 

Isak is certain he will never understand how people will work hard to stop him and Even from loving each other. He isn’t quite certain he will ever understand why he tried to deny himself from living. But he knows that this is right for him.

 

And that is all that matters.

 

*

 

“ _Mamma_? _Pappa_?” Even calls out while letting Isak inside. “We’re home!”

 

Isak mimics Even and leaves his shoes in the hallway. This is foreign terrain, and he doesn’t want to mess things up by doing the wrong thing like not hanging up his jacket properly.

 

And then he sees them. Even’s parents. They’re smiling brightly and he realises he shouldn’t be nervous. He _was_ invited after all.

 

“Hi there,” the woman greets him, smiling. “You must be Isak. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

 

“Hi,” Isak says and smiles. Since he knows some manners, he holds out his hand. “Nice to finally meet you too.”

 

“Oh, none of that,” she says, waving away his hand and hugs him instead.

 

Isak glances at Even and is met with another smile.

 

He figures this is a good start.

 

“Call me Ester,” she says before she lets him go.

 

“Alright,” he nods at her before turning to Even’s father. “Hi, I’m Isak.”

 

He holds out his hand and nervously glances at Even again.

 

“Sven,” the man says and takes his hand. They shake hands and Isak believes he has never felt so awkward before. And then he’s pulled into another hug by the man. “Nice to finally meet you,” Sven says.

 

“Oh,” Isak says, patting Sven’s back awkwardly. “You too.”

 

Sven chuckles and lets him go. “Did my son tell you we’re having tacos?”

 

“Yeah, eventually,” Isak says, grinning. He steps closer to Even (because it’s comfortable to be close to Even) and looks up at him. “He nearly gave me a heart attack spitting lies about special forks for appetizer.”

 

“ _Even_ ,” Ester admonishes and tuts.

 

“He’s fine,” Even says defensively, hooking an arm around Isak’s waist.

 

“Yeah, _now_ ,” Isak says jokingly.

 

“Well, give him a tour around the house,” Sven says, rolling his eyes at the boys’ antics. “We’ll be in the kitchen and we’ll need your hand setting the table soon.”

 

“Of course,” Even agrees easily and takes Isak’s hand. “Follow me, love.”

 

At that, Isak is certain his face is doing quite the striking impression of a tomato, but he lets himself be led out of the hallway and into the living room.

 

“So, this is the room where we usually hang out,” Even says, gesturing into the spacious room. “I know you’ve been here once before, but this is your official tour.”

 

There’s a flat TV in the middle with a large grey couch and a small table. Some paintings that Isak believes has Even’s style are hanging on the walls along with family photos. There’s a large bookcase standing behind the couch, filled with books where part of a shelf is filled with small photos of Even. It seems to be photos taken in school.

 

Isak is rather certain the overall design and furniture is taken straight from an IKEA-catalogue.

 

But it’s homely.

 

He notices the Christmas tree is covered in lights and glass baubles, and underneath there are a stack of presents.

 

“This is nice,” Isak tells Even. “I like your bowl cut,” he adds teasingly.

 

Even blushes. “I rocked it.”

 

“Mm, sure you did,” Isak teases.

 

Even pulls Isak into his embrace and kisses him.

 

And again, like all other times they’ve done this, Isak’s chest explodes. He closes his eyes and lets his hand weave through Even’s hair.

 

He loves this. He loves when they kiss. He loves when their noses touch and their tongues meet and everything else stops.

 

There is no chance in heaven he could ever get tired of having Even so close to him that it feels like their souls are touching.

 

They stop and like always, they stare into each other’s eyes with their noses rubbing gently.

 

“Let’s move on,” Even says breathily before he plants a kiss on Isak’s cheek and pulls him into the next room.

 

*

 

“So,” Sven says when they’re seated at the dining table. “What do you want to do when you get older, Isak?”

 

Isak swallows his bite of tortilla taco wrap before answering. “I’m not sure yet. I know I want to continue studying but I haven’t quite decided what yet, really.”

 

“Oh, really?” Sven hums, taking a bite of his own wrap. “I guess there’s no rush, really.”

 

“Not really,” Isak agrees with a light shrug. “I don’t want to start studying something and realise a few years later I picked the wrong choice.”

 

“That’s understandable,” Ester adds into the conversation. “How’s your parents doing?”

 

“They’re… fine,” Isak says with some consideration. “They recently separated but we’re learning as we go.”

 

He feels Even’s foot against his and he raises an eyebrow at him. _Toe-flirting, really?_ However, the unspoken question is met with Even’s own raised eyebrows. _So, what?_

 

“That’s nice,” Ester says. “What do you like to do on your spare time?”

 

“I used to skate and play games before,” Isak tells her. _Before Even_. “And it’s fun. I kind of also have had this interest in the multiverse theory—“

 

Even groans. “You should stop thinking about it. It’ll drive you mad.”

 

“I think it’s interesting, too,” Ester says. “I saw a documentary about it on TV. Makes you think, doesn’t it?”

 

 _The same time, in a completely different place in the universe_.

 

“Yeah,” Isak agrees.

 

_There is probably, in a parallel universe, an Isak and an Even that is lying in the exact same way, in the exact same place, only that—you know… there’s like, a different colour on the curtains._

 

“The thing is,” Isak clears his throat and looks at Ester, “everything is so big, right? The universe, they say it’s constantly expanding and you wonder—into what? And there’s a possibility that at the end of our universe, there’s a twin universe, and somewhere deep into that universe, we have the same people living the same lives. Or not. Someone might’ve… might’ve died or someone might have made a different choice, which caused the butterfly effect. And here we are talking, right now, and maybe us in a parallel universe is having the exact same conversation right now.”

 

Ester laughs. “Exactly! It’s quite fascinating.”

 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get what’s so fascinating about that kind of theory,” Sven sighs and shakes his head. “You don’t believe in that, do you?” he asks Even.

 

“Not really,” Even tells him. “It messes with my brain.”

 

The boys look at each other, a small smile tugging their lips when they do. Isak is the one who breaks their eye contact and turns back to Ester.

 

“Did you hear about the man that came from a country that doesn’t exist?”

 

Ester gasps. “Oh, what do you mean? I don’t think I’ve heard that one.”

 

Isak takes a bite of his wrap again. “It’s so weird. I don’t remember all the details, but it was a man visiting Japan and he was asked about where he came from. He said he’s from a country that doesn’t exist, but had a passport that seemed real. He stated his country was like, between France and Spain.”

 

“He didn’t say Andorra?” Sven asks, frowning.

 

Isak shakes his head. “No! He didn’t even know what Andorra was.”

 

Even looks sceptical. “You’re sure this isn’t fiction?”

 

“Uh, yeah,” Isak says and rolls his eyes. “The weirdest part was that they like, brought him into questioning and had him sort of guarded or whatever. And then suddenly he was gone with all his belongings that were kept by the officials or something. That for sure is proof that the multiverse _does_ exist.”

 

“That’s both scary and exciting,” Ester declares before serving herself a new wrap. “If that’s true, that must mean this talk about space wormholes could be real.”

 

“Wormholes?” Sven asks. “What are you talking about, Ester?”

 

“Like portals,” Isak explains. “And yeah! But the man seemed not to know he had travelled. That would suggest that the nature itself could bend and break at its own will.”

 

“I don’t think we should talk more about this,” Even says, massaging his forehead. “It’s too weird.”

 

“What do you want to talk about then?” Isak asks, tilting his head.

 

“Hmm. Maybe about something that won’t keep my head spinning tonight.”

 

Sven laughs. “Son, I love you, but your head is always spinning.

 

“ _Pappa_ ,” Even whines, rolling his eyes again. “Not _always_.”

 

“Isak, would you mind passing the tomatoes,” Ester breaks in, stretching her hand towards a bowl closer to Isak. “Thanks.”

 

*

 

They’re up in Even’s room now.

 

It’s not late, but they’re both full and tired after dinner. They decided to stay, which seemed to make the parents overjoyed.

 

Currently, Isak’s head is resting against Even’s arm, and their legs are entangled.

 

“Tonight was nice,” Isak tells Even genuinely. “I like them.”

 

“And they like you,” Even assures him.

 

Even’s hand is stroking Isak’s back inside his shirt. His fingertips are gently mapping the skin of Isak’s back and sometimes it tickles. When it does, Isak’s body jerks.

 

The first time it happened, Even teased him for ages.

 

( _“Are you ticklish? No? It seems to me that you are. You think so? So if I do this—aha! You_ are _ticklish. You can’t blame it on a waterdrop now.”_ )

 

“Aren’t they—you know—sad about Sonja?”

 

“Sad? No, not really. Not that I know of,” Even says in afterthought. “It’s—look—they’ve known Sonja for a very, very long time. And it’s fine. But they knew by the end of our relationship that I wasn’t happy in it.”

 

“Okay…”

 

“And I think they’re happier knowing I’m happier with you.”

 

Isak stays silent for a while to contemplate Even’s words. “Don’t you—well—miss her?”

 

“Sure, I do,” Even admits, sparking a burst of jealousy in Isak. It disappears, however, when Even continues. “But I don’t love her the way I love you. And I haven’t loved her in a while.”

 

“But isn’t she better at like—knowing what to do when shit happens?” Isak winces at his wording. “I’m sorry, I meant—“

 

“I know,” Even interrupts. “And it’s fine that you don’t know everything. It’s not even your job to take care of me that way.”

 

“You’ve said that before, so I’ll repeat myself. I know. But I want to be there with you and for you, so you’ll just have to deal with me.”

 

“That’s not a bad thing,” Even says.

 

They kiss, moving closer to each other with each passing moment.

 

“I know,” Isak breathes into Even’s mouth. “It’s alright with me if you want to speak to her sometimes. Whatever you need to do will always come first in my book.”

 

“So if I need something right now, you’ll give it to me?” Even clarifies.

 

“Yeah, sure,” Isak says. “Why?”

 

Their noses touch again.

 

“Then kiss me,” Even says.

 

Isak hums in agreement and straddles Even’s hips. He leans down to kiss Even.

 

With one hand in Even’s hair and one on Even’s chest, Isak is certain that there could be no better place, anywhere in the universe, than in this moment.

 

“I love you,” Isak whispers into Even’s cheek,

 

“I love you too."

 

*

 

 _“And I’ll be yours to keep;  
_ _A wind in the shadow, a whale song in the deep”_

—Ben Howard with Only Love

 

**Author's Note:**

> I think we all can figure out that _mamma_ means "mum" and _pappa_ means "dad". And since we haven't really learnt the names of Even's parents, I once again took the freedom to do the most cheesy thing and play it out on Even's name; E(ster) and (S)ven.  
>   
>  Also, in Sweden at least (and I think Norway's pretty much the same), we don't really do the "Mrs" and "Mr" thing for parents. We sort of learn their names and use the given name.


End file.
